


of red hair & direwolf brooches

by Husaria



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 02:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: Daenerys wakes up cold with her head buried in Sansa's red hair.





	of red hair & direwolf brooches

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, this is my first GoT fic. 
> 
> Written for the Femslash Ficlets community on Dreamwidth. 
> 
> Prompt 192: Red

“I will never understand how you Starks stay warm up here,” said Daenerys. She woke up cold with her head buried in Sansa’s red hair. Being naked also complicated matters. 

“Winterfell sits on top of natural hot springs,” said Sansa, slipping on her stockings. It amused her to watch Daenerys complain about the heat. For all the Targaryen love of fire, she could not handle a little chill. “We’re not immune to cold as you Targaryens are to fire.” 

“The ancient Starks were wise,” Daenerys quipped. She shrugged on her white winter coat. It made the cold a bit more bearable. 

“I believe that you regularly ride on a dragon,” said Sansa. “You don’t complain about the cold then.” 

“That’s different,” Daenerys replied. “Dragons are fire made flesh. You can hardly feel the cold when you’re on one.” 

Sansa looked at her skeptically before taking a brush to her hair. “Can you hand me a brooch?” No intricate hairstyles today. She couldn’t have servants entering to find a Stark and Targaryen in bed together. “There should be several in the chest by the window.” 

Daenerys walked over to the window and briefly looked outside. In the distance, Drogon and Rhaegal circled above the wolfswood. Perhaps, one day when this was all over, she could take Sansa on Drogon’s back and fly high enough to where Winterfell was just a small dot on the earth. 

“Here.” She found one and pinned the silver direwolf brooch onto Sansa’s coat. 

“I believe Jon has a direwolf,” remarked Daenerys. “He told me that Lord Stark and his sons found a litter of pups outside of Winterfell. Was there a direwolf pup for you as well?” 

Sansa’s throat tightened. Even after all these years, it was difficult to talk about her. 

“Yes,” she said dryly. “Her name was Lady. She…was killed a few months after we took her in.” 

Daenerys looked down. “Oh…I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

She took a step back. “I think you look lovely.” 

Sansa smiled sadly. “Thank you.” 

“Wait a moment.” 

Daenerys reached forward and straightened out the direwolf brooch. “There. That looks better.” 

Her hand moved from the brooch to Sansa’s cheek, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “Your hair reminds me of dragon fire.” She chuckled. “Far too warm for Winterfell.” 

“Oh really?” said Sansa with a small grin. “Your hair reminds me of snow.” 

Daenerys leaned forward and softly pressed her lips against Sansa’s. 

Resting one hand on Daenery’s hip, Sansa sighed gently and leaned into the kiss. 

“Come,” said Sansa. She took Daenerys’ hand and interlaced their fingers. “I think my family is waiting for us downstairs.” 


End file.
